


Reckoning

by ThusSpokeRaven



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Established Relationship, European witches, F/F, Family Drama, Lesbian Sex, Lesbians, Love, Secret Society, Sex, Witches, coven - Freeform, foxxay - Freeform, goodeday, witchy business
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21826450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThusSpokeRaven/pseuds/ThusSpokeRaven
Summary: Remember when Cordelia outed witches to the world on live Television?   Yeah ... about that.
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Comments: 17
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

* * *

Hanna Olah ran her fingers over a bullet hole in the monument. Looking into the Kerepesi Cemetery was as always awe inspiring. Her eyes ranged over the stones toward the crypts and angels within. The 13 covens sent their representatives here to Budapest every spring, each standing beside a statue to be gathered. It was a strange ritual to undergo but Dagmar of the Fjord Sisters once explained that it gave the representatives time to scatter if something happened when they arrived. 

Moving through the deep shadows when the lighting of the grounds “failed” Hanna did not slow her already sedate pace, nor did she utter a sound. Shadows gathered in her wake. A shadow slid from beside the sleeping angel, another from the statue of a woman clutching her heart. Soon enough the other twelve joined Olah in the dark of the Lajos Kossoth mausoleum. 

Bridie from the UK sisterhood kindled a flame in the center of the circle. Even as the most junior of the representatives of the European Covens, she showed white at her temples. Hanna knew better than to cross any crone that survived the dog eat dog ways of Britain’s most powerful circle. Hanna looked to the others. There were very few who she would underestimate in this circle. 

She welcomed her sisters. “Before we begin our ritual, we need to discuss recent events in America.”

Dagmar shook her head. “American magic is not the same as our own. Look at the way that coven brings up its Supreme. They have a great deal of power, but it’s difference perhaps gives them the belief that they can do such things without consequence.”

Bridie shook her head. “One, they are American. Two, they are a blend of our magics and the magic native to the Americas which makes them different enough where they may HAVE to write their rules. I’m not sure we are in a position to step in.”

An older woman leaning on a cane moved further into the flickering light of the fire. Lena, from Poland bore 85 years of wrinkles and very strong convictions when she felt moved to throw them into the circle. The cane lifted and came down with a boom far louder than it ought to have been capable of. “Call them here,” she said carefully. “If we do not leash the hound bitch it will undoubtedly bite us one day.”

Bridie frowned. “Even if they aren’t willing or perhaps even capable of being ruled by us?”

“Their actions will expose us all. They will be ruled by us or we will annihilate them.” Lena said firmly. She made sure to meet the eyes of her sisters in the ruling coven of Europe.

* * *

Cordelia stretched as the sunlight moved across the room to catch her in the eye. She let every muscle wake slowly and rolled over. Misty lay on her stomach, the sheet down around her waist. The Supreme allowed her fingers to slowly stroke down the exposed spine with a smile.

“Wha’ ha’ I told ya Delia?” came muffled from Misty’s face in the pillow.

Delia chuckled. “Coffee first or make it an amazing wake up.”

Misty rolled over. “Why you insist on pettin’ me like a kitty first thing in the mornin’” she grumped.

Cordelia leaned over her lover, her nails trailing between her breasts and over her belly. The Supreme smiled and touched her lips to Misty’s. The swamp witch moaned as her fingers moved over her hip and back up her thigh. 

“Better wake up,” Misty said, her voice still tinged with a sleepy rumble.

Cordelia smiled and kissed Misty’s shoulder. “Glad you approve.”

Zoe came in so fast the door hit the wall. She slid to a halt, eeping. “Sorry. I… Sorry. There’s a call and… sorry.”

Delia smiled at her lover. She knew Misty was enjoying the hell out of their friend’s obvious discomfort. She sat up and grabbed a robe pulling it on. “Obviously something very important or you wouldn’t risk early morning wrath.”

Zoe shook her head. “It’s really important. Well, I think it’s important. It could be important or maybe its nothing. Maybe I should go back and try again.”

Misty wrapped in the sheet and padded to Zoe patting her shoulder, “Breathe.” She signaled Delia she was heading to the shower and debated whether her lover would be joining her or if she should just go straight for the cold water. Looking back at the door, she noted Zoe still bouncing. “Cold it is,” she muttered.

Cordelia smiled at Zoe and waved her to a chair. “What’s going on?”

Zoe sat down. She looked at her hands. “There was a phone call.”

“Got that much.” Delia breathed out slowly. “Who was it from?”

Zoe looked at her Supreme with big eyes. “The European ruling coven.”

Delia tapped her fingers. “They generally pretend we don’t exist.”

“They’ve seen us now.” Zoe looked distressed. “They want us to join them pronto. They didn’t say why, but I can’t help to wonder if it has something to do with outing witches.”

“So…. probably pissed.” Cordelia sighed. “Way too early in the damned morning for this. Did they say anything else?”

“No but they wanted to send only one plane ticket.” Zoe shrugged.

“We will take the jet and it will be the whole council too or none of us. I have no patience for bullies.” Delia sighed. “Think Misty hit the cold water yet?”

Zoe blushed. “You go find out. I will make arrangements for the rest.” With that, she scurried out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

* * *

Madison put on her sunglasses and looked around. She yelped as Queenie slapped the back of her head. “What the hell was that for?”

Queenie waved a hand. “Indoors and in England? No sun superstar.” She rolled her eyes and peeked out the portholes in the gangway. She sucked a breath between her teeth in disappointment. Tarmac was not very England-y.

“Always shiny where I’m at,” Madison grumped. Airports everywhere were the same. She hated canned air, and hour after hour of clouds. She wanted to see anything that was not sky, airport or airplane. She looked over at her sister witch. Or anything Queenie.

Cordelia smiled. She loved her girls. They bickered and occasionally drew blood, but the way they pulled together in a crisis? There was no one she’d rather have at her back. She nodded as Misty joined her. “We don’t know how pissed they are. I think maybe we should play it cool until we know how deep things are.”

“I don’t want to be used as leverage against you,” Misty said quietly. “I can play low key for a smidge. I’ll tell the others.” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and hurried ahead to Queenie and Madison. 

Zoe came up alongside her Supreme and her friend. “I heard,” she confirmed.

Cordelia looked toward the younger woman. There were times that Zoe seemed younger than her years, but then she would seem so much older and more mature. If Delia believed in reincarnation, she would have pegged her friend as the wise Councillor to generations. Smiling, she patted Zoe’s shoulder. “How many cameras did you bring for sightseeing?”

“All of them,” she admitted her ears getting pink. The Supreme loved her friend, but she really did take a perverse delight in teasing Zoe. 

“If they don’t try to burn us at the stake right away, we will have to see the sights. Maybe there’s a creepy old castle just waiting for you.” Delia waved at the Customs official waiting for them at the end of the gangway. “Time to get our passports stamped.”

“Thank God. Passport virginity is just annoying.” Zoe chuckled. She looked to Cordelia. “They won’t burn us, will they?” she asked, the tightness appearing in her face betraying a touch of real fear.

Cordelia shook her head. “The thing about being media whores…. Always someone watching. They want to stay private, killing us is going to be very complicated.” She looped her arm through Zoe’s. “We got this. There hasn’t been a more powerful Salem circle since… maybe ever. We are on their turf, but we’ve shown we have no problem with nuclear options. We are going to be okay as long as we stick together and can keep Queenie and Madison from killing one another.”

Zoe laughed. “I would rather tangle with the Royal Coven than try to keep those two behaving.”

Delia leaned in and whispered “Maybe we’ll just let them loose on the Coven.” She pulled her arm out of Zoe’s and pulled out her passport. 

After reporting to the passport control officer, the Salem coven stretched and walked the concourse until their pilot and crew had finished their own check in. A little refueling saw them to their destination, a smaller airport in the Midlands. A large limo sat at the base of the stairs down from their jet, with a older woman in a conservative suit waiting. She smiled, “My dears,” she greeted.

Cordelia stepped down and accepted the offered hand. “You are Bridie?”

“I am, sweet girl.” Her eyes widened as she took in the rest of the entourage. “Good lord. Not one crone?”

Madison pulled out the sucker she had been working on. “We had two, but one got axed and the other we burnt up.” She reared back slightly at Zoe’s expression. “What? It’s true.”

Bridie’s brow rose. “Who are your teachers then?”

Cordelia placed a hand on Zoe’s shoulder. “This is Zoe Benson. I was the headmistress of the Academy before I became the Supreme. She is in charge of educating our circle now.” Delia smiled at her friend. “She is brilliant and wise, everything we could need for building the future of the Salem witches.”

Madison smacked Zoe’s head. “Sorry. Saw it expanding.” she muttered.

Bridie chuckled and shook Zoe’s hand. “I look forward to talking shop with you. As the Great Priestess of the UK I am charged with ensuring each of the covens looking to me have a solid background educationally speaking.”

“The Chanel says you have a solid background in other ways,” Madison singsonged.

Queenie stepped forward. “Don’t mind Madison. Growing up Hollywood has burnt out her filters. I’m Queenie.”

“I have actually heard of you. It’s always impressive to learn of women who bridge the worlds of magic. It has been a very long time since I’ve had the opportunity to speak with one who studies both witchcraft and voodoo.” Bridie smiled and her eyes swept over the group. “Ah, and you must be Misty Day. Your burning sent a shock wave through the world. We had hoped the burning times were done but your…. Difficulty woke us to the hatred still in the world.” She cocked her head. “You really must share your healing regimen. Remarkable.” Bridie straightened up and tugged her jacket slightly. “It will be a touch snug, but I think we should ride together in the limousine and become great friends in the doing.” She smiled signalling the chauffeur to open doors.

Misty hesitated the briefest moment looking into the face of the great witch. She could smell evil. What she was smelling wasn’t evil, but it wasn’t roses and kitties either. Bridie would bear watching.

Bridie watched the last of the girls enter the car and sighed. The Americans were just as ill mannered as she feared. Even if she got over her own reservations in the brief time she would be hosting them before guiding them to the Royal, she knew that being the most liberal of the sisterhood made her the only one likely to do so. She pasted on a smile. “I am so looking forward to hosting you all in my home before the others convene. I can’t wait to see your faces when you see where we will be staying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments fuel me!


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

* * *

Zoe stepped out of the limo and looked up and up. Bridie stood beside her. “The core of the building was a small castle. There were four different periods during which the house was restored and added onto.”

The young woman looked at the proud coven leader of the UK. “This is your house?”

“It is now. I married the previous lord during my intemperate youth. Our son is busy living in London where he can spend his inheritance in the most disgusting manner possible. I am setting up a trust so this property will be taken care of in years to come.” 

She nodded as a butler came out to take some of the bags.

“I will give you a brief tour and then after a nap we can enjoy a nice supper.” Bridie gave a welcoming smile and indicated the front door to the girls.

Cordelia smiled. “Excellent. I know Zoe is already drooling to break out cameras if that’s okay.”

Bridie smiled to the eager member of the party. “A proper bit of photography is long overdue. I just ask that if I tell you a piece is too delicate for the flash….”

“I will put the camera down.” Zoe pledged, holding her fingers in a scout salute.

Bridie chuckled. “Lifelong Girl Guide myself. Shall I show you the Great Hall to start?”

Zoe perked up mightily.

Misty chuckled as she passed Delia. “We might not get her back across the Atlantic.”

Madison grinned. “Hope lives on.” She followed the Royal sister into the building. 

Queenie snagged Delia’s arm. “Color me paranoid.”

Cordelia watched the others go in. “She is either super nice or not so much. The path to Supremacy here is more political than back home. Color me paranoid too.” She sighed and followed in, Queenie in tow.

Bridie turned toward Cordelia and gave a stately nod. “And finally your room on the left side of the corridor and Zoe? Yours is across.” She looked at the Council member for whom she appeared to be developing a fondness. “I encourage all to rest before dinner…. However, I believe I want to show my fellow Girl Guide a particular feature of this house.”

Zoe grinned. She looked at Cordelia who merely smiled and waved at them both before turning in. “Yes please.”

Drawing Zoe’s arm through her own, Bridie headed into the stony heart of the building. She looked at Zoe. “Witches have quietly married into this family for hundreds of years. This home sits on a particularly active convergence of energies. However, that is not the truly interesting feature of the home for witches.” The walls shifted from plaster and paint to stone. She reached a wall covered by a very old tapestry. She pulled it aside and whispered a cantrip. The hidden door slid aside to reveal a stairway into the darkness. Pulling out a flashlight, Bridie headed down. “Mind your step, the stairs were carved of differing heights to tumble interlopers dear.”

Zoe heard the wall above slide closed above as they reached the bottom. She gasped. It felt like the air had suddenly gone cold and flat in an instant. Bridie took her arm. “Careful there. This part of the castle has been magically deadened. When the door above is sealed, this portion is isolated.” She headed through the time darkened door and flicked a switch. “The devil itself to get electricity to work in here.” 

Zoe looked around. She was in a large circular room. A casting circle was inlaid into the floor and cabinets and bookshelves alternated around the walls. “This is a ritual room.”

Bridie smiled. The back of her fingers brushed the younger woman’s cheek. “More than that. This is where the most powerful of younger witches were sent to learn. Youth and power in a single girl could endanger us all. We kept them here until they were taught enough not to be a danger. She indicated the walls. “Nothing but Death itself could traverse these walls.” 

“Prisoners,” Zoe said aghast.

Bridie opened a door to a corridor full of doors. “Hardly.” She walked a short distance and opened a door. “Have you any idea how many mundanes die because of witches who don’t know enough to prevent themselves from catastrophic action?”

Zoe flashed on an image of her first boyfriend who died because of her killer vagina. Would she have felt better tucked away until she knew better? She shook her head. “Still prisoners. How do you explain to their family?” She reached for the words for her thoughts. 

The English woman looked at her sadly. “Their families are informed of the deaths of their loved ones. Very tragic but they continue on, often more happily with life insurance payments and fewer strange occurrences. We teach the witches and then help them to find new lives and new purposes.” She looked at Zoe. “Your America was founded by madmen with guns, grown by madmen with guns and today? Its identity is still defined by a sort of crazed madness punctuated with violence. There is a frantic sort of scrabbling to survive in that country. I can understand that visibility would be desired there but here, our survival is our quiet living in the weave of our world.”

Zoe looked into a room as Bridie opened the door. It was a beautifully appointed room about the size of her own room at the Academy. “It’s a pretty prison.”   
  


Bridie looked hurt. “I had hoped that I might make you of all of them see.” Her jaw tightened. “I had hoped you would be a willing advocate. I will simply have to make you my advocate on strings.” She threw Zoe into the room and whispered a cantrip to seal the door. She headed up to the part of the castle above the dead zone. Activating a scry stone, she sent a communication. A day with the coven’s expert on mind control should be sufficient to wear down the young woman’s will and damnable Americanness.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

* * *

Misty smiled at her lover as she joined the small group gathering at the base of the stairs. “Zoe still asleep?”

Bridie appeared nearby. “Goodness no. That inexhaustible young lady badgered me into giving her the use of my chauffeur to take her to the stone circle in a nearby stretch of wood. Really, how does one keep up with her?”

Cordelia chuckled. “She is a powerful combination of power and youth. It takes coffee mainlined some days but all our students benefit from her energy.” She pulled her phone out. “Shall I hurry her along?”

The crone of her circle shook her head. “Oh no dear. Maiden’s Rocks is out of cell coverage. Riley called from the Abbey ruins about halfway there to let me know that she is quite enchanted and I should plan to keep her meal warm.”

* * *

Misty sighed and crossed her arms as she frowned at a portrait. Cordelia joined her and cocked her head looking at a British officer of the Boer War era. “How did they fight in that?” the swamp witch asked.

Cordelia lifted her chin. “If the bling on his epaulettes are anything to go by, I doubt he was fighting so much as harrumphing and sending others to their deaths.”

“You’re cheerful...and sleepless.” Misty turned to look at her lover. “I’m worried about her too.”

Delia looked over her shoulder as the sound of voices drifted through the house. Heading for the top of the main stairs she ducked down and looked through the banister to watch their hostess saying a fond good night to a woman in her forties. She frowned and tried to catch the conversation.

“The coven thanks you lovely.” Bridie called out to her favorite mind bender as she headed for her car out front. Madeline had turned her gift toward quiet grifting, but Bridie could hardly balk considering what it had taken to get her former husband to ditch his true love and marry her. As long as Maddy served the coven, it was all good, as the Americans would say.

Zoe rubbed her head where it had bounced on the car’s door frame. She blinked like an owl as the car slowly traveled the last of the distance to the house. “Wow. I crashed hard,” she said sleepily.

“Indeed you did Miss.” The chauffeur smiled into the mirror. “You didn’t budge even when we hit town and I dropped your film canisters off at the developers.”

Zoe searched her memory. “It was a good day at the Rocks. Thank you.”

“My pleasure Miss. I am not encouraged to be friendly with guests but as you were kind enough to allow it, may I say that I enjoyed your company today.” He smiled. “I had better get stiff again. Her ladyship is in the doorway.”

Zoe smiled. “Thank you and your secret is safe with me.” She allowed him to open the door and headed for the house. “Hi Bridie. I think I sightsaw a little too hard. I am exhausted.”

Bridie patted her shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed then dear.”

Cordelia pulled Misty out of sight into a small side hall which apparently led to the servant’s stairs. “That’s a relief.” 

Misty smiled in the dim light of the corridor. Biting her lip, she snagged Cordelia’s wrist and drew her along. Poking around, she found a broom closet. She closed it behind them whispering a little spell on the door.

“What are you doing Misty?” Delia asked amused.

The swamp witch spread her arms. “We both are having trouble sleepin’ so I’m just givin’ us a bit of privacy to cure the insomnia.”

Cordelia looked to the door. “That the spell the girls use when they want to raid the pantry at three in the morning?”

Misty looked crushed. “You knew?”

“Course I knew. I used the same spell when I was a student under Myrtle.” She stepped to the door and touched it whispering. “And that’s the upgrade. Good for about fifteen minutes of pure privacy.”

Misty slid her hands around Delia’s waist. One slid under her shirt to cup a breast under the pajama top as the other slid into the waistband. The Supreme moaned as Misty’s teeth and lips moved along her throat. “Gonna help you sleep so good,” Misty whispered against Delia’s skin.

The Supreme turned and faced her lover. Her hands captured Misty’s face and pulled her in for a hungry, demanding kiss. The clock was ticking and they both felt it. The swamp witch’s fingers tugged on Delia’s curls before massaging her mound as they kissed. 

Cordelia broke the kiss. “Quit teasing,” she mock ordered. A growl tore from her throat as Misty nipped where shoulder and throat met even as she pressed fingers deep into Delia. The swamp witch loved the way Delia wrapped her leg around to keep them close. All they would have in Europe would be stolen moments like this. She would make her lover feel good before they went to their separate rooms.

Zoe lay down and stared at the ceiling. She felt odd. Writing it off to jet lag and too much tourist time, she closed her eyes and rolled to her side. Flashes of her sightseeing flew through her head like snapshots to the whisper of “Nothing but Death itself could traverse these walls.”


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

* * *

Cordelia looked out at the lawn stretching further than her girls walked to get a cheeseburger back in New Orleans. Her head cocked. “Wow.” Her eyes scanned the closer portions given to an ornate decorative garden featuring a large flock of women in delicate dresses and hats of many hues. She wondered if she could ever get her girls in floral long enough for a party like that.

“It is a lot to take in. I came from a titled family so I had seen garden parties like this, but I never dreamed I would be throwing these things.” Bridie smiled. The leader of the United Kingdom’s finest witches looked over her girls with pride. There was no better coven whatever the other Royal sisters thought. “Sleep well Cordelia?” She asked as she turned toward the American leader.

Delia smiled remembering her insomnia cure. “I did. I thought the supper was the welcome feast.” She watched as women floated sedately around the tables scattered near a canopied buffet of finger foods and drinks. It was an English manor movie come to life.

Bridie smiled as the other girls drifted down from their rooms. “That was welcome to my home. Today, we have a welcome from representatives of the covens I rule.” She gestured toward the witches in the garden. “These girls are my pride and joy.”

Madison frowned. “They are wearing pastels,” she grumped. She pulled her fur jacket closer. The women below were all springy but English springy and Hollywood springy were far different things. “So...flowery and hatty.”

Zoe joined the growing group giving her friends one armed hugs as she took in the party. “They have to fit into the world that they live in. The witches here still worry about what happens when they are seen for witches.”

Delia smiled at her friend. Zoe always had such a strong grasp of all sides of a difficulty. It was part of what made her such a treasure. “Did you get a lot of pictures?” she asked laying her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.

Zoe looked puzzled a moment but soon recovered. “I had a good time last night. Still fuzzy on some of it this morning, but the film is being developed as we speak.” Zoe shifted slightly to the right as Bridie moved in closer to the two women.

The English woman’s brow twitched slightly at the unconscious movement. The young educator was now saying the right things, but she was acting skittish around Bridie. Madeline would have to look into that later. “Are you all ready to meet my girls?” She asked with a welcoming smile.

Madison poked her head up from the collar of her jacket. “I would meet a pervert and murderer if he had coffee.” Madison slid on her dark glasses. “Let the games begin.” She moved down the steps to the garden in her black outfit looking for all the world like a blond crow.

Bridie took a breath and released it slowly. Perhaps if she hinted to the sisters that the Hollywood star had suffered brain damage. She led the way for the rest of the Salem coven and began introductions.

“How can you possibly think that disclosure is the answer?” one young British witch asked, as she sat at the table with the girls.

“People are quicker to attack people who don’t fight back or who no one sees.” Queenie shook her head. “You ask any gay person from say the 50s or any homeless guy any year and see how they vote.” She took a drink of some crazy fizzy punch drink. “We still catch hell from some quarters, but they will be less likely to think they can just burn a girl like they did Misty.”

Misty raised her glass at the look from the young witch. “I ain’t thrilled bein’ a topic of discussion but better that than a topic of dissection at some morgue.” She felt out of place in the land of cucumber sandwiches and punch. She wondered if hiding would be an option with all of these eyes on her.

“Amen,” Queenie responded.

“I do get where you are coming from,” responded Zoe. “Silence kept most witches safe since before Scathach sailed to America.”

Madison looked at her friend with narrowed eyes. “Who’s side are you on anyway?” She was baffled by Zoe’s attitude after listening to how many hours of 'yay, disclosure' from the council member.

Delia sighed. “Madison….” she said warningly.

A witch in the circle around the table stepped forward. “My concern is why you lot thought that it was acceptable without discussing it with all the others who would be affected.”

Madison’s hackles rose at the so polite but so poisonous tone. “Dude. She is the Supreme. She doesn’t answer to some witchy bureaucracy across the fucking pond, so step off.”

Queenie snorted. “Like Americans listen to Europeans anyway…. Revolutionary War, War of 1812, American addiction to biker and cowboy gear. Seriously, we are not given to the whole witching by international committee thing. America is a whole different world, culturally speaking.”

Misty put down her glass. “Delia kept us safe. Period. Exclamation point. Without disclosure, we would have kept dyin’ and dyin’ off. She saved us.” A silence greeted that point. Bridie was impressed. The swamp witch didn’t throw herself into the circle often, but she cut to the heart of things when she did. Hopefully, that would help the current situation.

Delia gave her lover a smile. She looked at the European witches. “We did what was needed. This genie is out of the bottle in America. You can choose to come out here or keep playing in the shadows. There are no guarantees, either way. We could all be kidnapped and experimented on tomorrow, or we could live almost normal lives. What we won’t be doing is cowering or standing alone. We hope that the European witches join us in standing up, but its a decision that belongs to the witches of Europe.”


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

* * *

Misty was wandering the greenhouses tucked into an odd corner of the walled off herb garden the next morning. Bridie watched her from the door. The swamp witch was a lovely individual, though a touch rough around the edges. The English woman stepped into the greenhouse and smiled as Misty gave a coriander plant a bit of water.

“Are you a plant lover as well, dearie?” Bridie asked as she pulled on her gardening gloves and began trimming a wormwood plant she hoped to transplant soon.

“Yes ma’am. I am.” Misty moved in closer. “Wormwood?”

“Yes dearie. It is, I’m afraid not as common in England as it once was and so I’m trying to encourage it. Poor thing.”

“Why not? I mean, why is it not as common?” Misty leaned in close to observe the plant. 

Bridie tsked. “There are those who believe that it never was meant for England. They think that it was brought here by the Romans. Tenacious as it is, it was not a natural child of these shores and now it seems to be running out of the steam to fight, as it were.”

Misty looked amused. “And you wanna give it some more steam.”

“I believe it is my duty to do what I can. It is after all a rather useful plant.” Bridie checked the soil. The wormwood liked its dry soil, but not quite this much. She hummed as she gave it a bit of a drink. 

“Is that your philosophy then? Protect what’s useful?” Misty leaned on the workbench and looked at the older witch with a puzzled air. She was still unsure about this woman and reached for any and all pieces, trying to fit them together.

Bridie smiled as she checked various other plants. “I protect my girls. I protect my heritage. I protect what is useful and….” she sighed and turned toward Misty. “You and your sisters provide ten gallons of grief in a five gallon bucket, but I do hope to protect you from what is coming.”

Misty stood upright. “And what is coming?”

“A reckoning. I understand Cordelia’s motives, and on some level I do agree. It was an appropriate action… in America. This, however, is not the Wild West. These actions she undertook freed your coven but here, I believe that when people stop pretending that witches are a new age thing that is endemic to America, you will find two kinds of people will stand out. The superstitious who would trigger a new Burning Times and the users, who seek us for gain.”Bridie frowned. “I believe that you, of all your sisters, understands the dangers.”

Misty looked through the glass toward the garden wall. She remembered the way the smell of gasoline burned and tore its way into her lungs, the way the lighter clicking again and again to get a spark made her heart stutter beat in her chest. She looked at Bridie. “Ain’t gonna lie, it wasn’t fun. I get why folks avoid it.” She considered a moment longer. “Why don’t I trim those trailers a mite and you can tell me ‘bout this reckoning you fussin’ about.”

* * *

Madison snagged Zoe’s arm. “Wake up bitch.” she said shaking the council member’s shoulder.

Zoe blinked and turned from the landscape she’d been admiring to see Madison and Queenie standing beside her. “What?” she asked in a confused tone. She hadn’t even heard them approach as absorbed as she was in the pastoral piece.

The two witches looked at one another before looking back at her. Queenie huffed out a breath. “We’ve been yelling for twenty minutes trying to find your ass girl.” She looked at the painting and then looked at Zoe, her brow raised. 

The actress’s eyes narrowed. “I’m right.” She frowned and looked around as if expecting a pod with her name on it. Zoe had to be a pod person for sure.

“Bitch, your bony ass is never right,” Queenie retorted.

“Right about what?” Zoe asked, looking from one to another.

Queenie jerked her chin at the actress. “Madison thinks the Eurowitches did a mind whammy on you. Paranoid bitch.”

“She keeps agreeing with them,” Madison responded.

“Objectivity is not something that you get from a mind whammy. It’s something you get from thinking critically you narrow minded, narrow assed pin head bitch.” Queenie shook her head. She looked at Zoe. “You never said. How were the ruins?”

Zoe frowned. “They were great.”

“Informative,” Queenie replied dryly. “I read in the tour guide there is some ancient graffiti there. Did you see any?”

Zoe tilted her head. She remembered seeing the stones and the ruins but it was like snapshots. “Weird,” she muttered. “Wait, I got pictures. Let’s see if the chauffeur picked them up yet.” She started for the main hall, the others in tow. She stopped suddenly looking down a hall at a familiar suit of armour. “Deja vu,” she said before correcting her course.

“I’m sorry miss,” the chauffeur said when they found him at a small table in the kitchen.. “The whole roll got over exposed. I think you were overtired when you were trying to pop it out.” 

Zoe frowned. “Okay. Um, thanks.” Her brow was knit as she reversed course. She eeped as she almost walked into Bridie.

“Hello Zoe,” Bridie greeted. Her eyes raised to see the others behind her. “And Queenie and Madison. Wonderful. I was about to bother the cook for a snack. Perhaps you’d join me.”

Zoe backed up slightly and then edge away. “I- I can’t. I’m… working on a presentation.” She gave an uncomfortable smile and headed off.

Queenie leaned in close to Madison. “No whammy.” she whispered. She smiled at Bridie. “Snacks are always welcome.

Madison was watching Zoe speculatively.


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

* * *

Cordelia huffed out a breath as she closed another book in the extensive coven library. She had started the day in the library near the main staircase before Bridie guided her deeper into the house. The walls were ancient stone and covered with tapestries where the bookcases didn’t loom. She was rather impressed with some of the texts and made a note to ask Bridie about making copies of the rarer volumes. 

Delia sat back in her chair. If nothing else, she wanted to bridge the gap between the covens. She would be damned if she would apologize for protecting her girls but at the same time, she was unhappy that these other covens were threatened by her actions. She couldn’t imagine that they could find happiness continuing the way they were. CC cameras everywhere, IDs and every other form of electronic tracking was making it harder and harder for people to exist in the margins. It was no doubt a part of the dying off of the Salem coven. No place was feeling safe before they stepped out of the shadows.

Standing up, the Supreme slipped books on the shelf. Bridie had been nothing but kind but Delia could not help feeling there was some deep unpleasantness coming. How would she react when the Crones gathered. Would they point a finger at her? Would they blame her for missing girls or harassment. She chuckled humorlessly. Isn’t that just the essence of a witch hunt. The chickens lay funny eggs. The horse goes bald. Must be the witch. A Hunter finds one of their girls, she would be the one responsible from now on. Delia rubbed her forehead and hunted up another book.

Misty took out the little locket Zoe helped her cobble together. She popped it open absently touching her thumb to the tiny lock of hair before clicking it shut and whispering a cantrip. She pictured her intention like one of those little metal jumping coins. You press and suddenly there is a bending, a palpable energy suddenly there waiting to jump. She smiled and dangled the locket, following it when the chain swung one way or another.

Delia looked up to find Misty smiling in the doorway. “How the hell did you find me? I haven’t got a clue how to get back.”

“Zoe made me a tracking locket a while back. I don’t have one for anyone else so I ain’t got a clue how to find our lunch.” Misty chuckled and joined her lover at the table. “Brrr. Ain’t gonna get used to cold ass buildings.”

“Probably the stone. I remember as a kid reading that castles were always drafty and cold.” Delia put the book back. “How are you doing with all of this otherwise?”

“Bridie’s girls keep askin’ for play by plays from my burnin’. Half tempted to pop the next one.” Misty slid into a chair. She looked at her lover. “She is scared. Ain’t never easy leavin’ the shadows you’re used to and this whole thing pushed them closer to out than ever. From what she’s saying her scared ain’t nothing on the scared and fury filled of her sisters in the Royal.”

Cordelia sighed. “They want a scapegoat for the growing pains that are coming.” She picked up another book to put back. “I hate that this all so hard for them that they are flailing to punish someone, but what happened happened and I will take care of my coven whatever they have to say.”

Misty nodded. “Reckon so.” She smiled, thinking of her lover naked on the library table. She ran her fingers over the glass smooth surface thoughtfully.

Cordelia, who was shelving a book didn’t even turn around. “Stop that.” She smiled and shook her head. “What is with you and rooms off the beaten track?” She pulled an herb book and laid it in front of Misty before sitting down.

“Ain’t thoughts for trafficky places… Well, not all the time at any rate.” The swamp witch chuckled.

* * *

Lena stepped out of the limo. Bridie met her at the door. “Lena. I was under the impression that you would be joining us at the same time as the others.”

The elder witch frowned. “I am here now. Find me a room, girl.” Her thick Polish accent trailed her as she tapped her cane into the interior of the manor. Looking around, she headed for the stairs. She was well aware of the Academy deep within the walls of the manor and headed in that direction as Bridie began to send her staff running in various directions.

Madison growled her frustration. She needed answers and she needed them now. “Fucking work for me or I swear to god I will dump you in a litter box,” she said to the bag filled with stones and shells. She dumped them onto the floor and raised her hands over them. When she took the test of the Seven Wonders she failed divination horrifically, but she had to believe it was about her. This time it was about Zoe and it had to work.

The third time was the charm. Madison breathed in and held it as her hands hovered over the colorful mess. Letting the breath out, it felt like cool silver and she got a sense of where to go. Madison hurriedly bagged the stones and followed the barest of threads into the dark of the house, so intent, she never realized she picked up a tail along the way.

Lena’s lips tightened to a line. Did the child who ran this coven show off the sacred and hidden spaces to these...these Americans. She drew closer. If her counterpart did betray her kind to these media whores, Lena would be there to ensure they never told. Her hand tightened on her cane. She was elderly, but it would not be the first time she ended a threat with magic and a well aimed stick.


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

* * *

Madison frowned as she entered a far different section of the house. What her agent would have called heebee jeebies were filling her as the passages grew darker and narrower and filled with stone. She hated to admit it, but she was not fond of tight locations. Blowing out a breath, She pulled out her phone. No bars but that wasn’t what she needed just now. Her head came up at a tapping sound somewhere nearby in the creepy labyrinth. 

As the light flared on, she flashed it in the direction she had come from. Nothing. She was probably hearing some maid bouncing around this massive place and the echoes were just freaking her out. She turned the phone the other way and saw a bit of color down the corridor. 

Crouching, she picked up a torn off flap from a film box. She let out a slow breath. She had teased Zoe for using an old fashioned film camera. Madison had seen her absently tuck an empty box into her pocket as she loaded it earlier. This had the same colors along the edges. Madison’s brow knitted. A cold breeze had tickled over her knuckles. She looked at a venerable tapestry. 

Moving forward, Madison put her fingers on the edge of the tapestry. That thin edge of rightness that had guided her this far led her past this cloth. She really hoped she wasn’t about to find Zoe in an alien pot. She lifted the cloth and saw a big light before she fell.

Lena tsked. She was far too old for this nonsense. She dragged the American witch to the stairs and let gravity do the work. Her head cocked. She wondered how the blonde had gotten this far. Thumping the cane decisively she went in search of one of Bridie’s girls to toss the American into a room below for the time being. Assuming of course, that she had failed to break her neck on the way down. If she did, Lena wondered how Bridie was set for an appropriate midden

* * *

Queenie watched the Polish royal as she ate. The woman ate as if someone was about to sweep by and steal her bowl. That made Queenie more nervous than all the hoity toity shit from the Brit bunch. People who’d been deprived long enough to develop that habit had the tendency to scrap and steal and shiv when they felt threatened. She looked to Cordelia who had eventually found her way from whatever library Bridie had tucked her away in. Queenie was deeply concerned that Cordelia didn’t seem to be picking up on the ugly.

Misty smiled at Zoe. “It was beautifully done and they had pressed flowers in an album as a kind of second volume.” The swamp witch looked down at her soup bowl, half surprised to find it empty. Even as she registered that, the staff appeared to whisk away dishes and replace them “So where did Madison get off to?”

Queenie snorted indelicately. “I have two votes. One? She got lost. Two? She found a full liquor cabinet and is avoiding us.” She shook her head at the antics of the actress.

Zoe shook her head as well. “Probably both, Cross your fingers she manages to stay out of trouble.” She smiled at Lena. “I was reading about traditions near the Belarus border. A blending of faith and wise woman traditions as well as midwifery. What emphasis do the city covens put on training in Poland?” she asked brightly.

Lena looked at her darkly. She had no use for suck ups or Americans. “Study magic and how not to be seen.” She turned to her entree, making her dismissal of the conversation clear.

Bridie closed her eyes and sighed. “Sister Lena, I believe that Zoe is simply trying to learn about us. I commend that. Knowledge makes misunderstandings less likely.” She smiled at the young woman, still feeling hurt as Zoe’s eyes slid away.

“Suka,” Lena spat out. “Misunderstanding?” She pointed her fork at Cordelia. “You should burn for the damage you do with your “misunderstanding.” She went back to her food, stabbing meat with great hostility.

Delia looked at Bridie who was rubbing her forehead. The Salem Supreme looked back at Lena and hoped she was the only close minded Royal they had to deal with.

* * *

Madison grabbed a plain cotton gown she found in a drawer of the room she woke up in and pressed it to the cut on her forehead. Not one window. The door was locked but there was no convenient keyhole to push the key out of like some Brit murder mystery movie. She screamed again. This whole place was a dead zone. She couldn’t get enough spark going to set stuff on fire. Madison was starting to panic. She hated the way magic made her life way too complicated but being without it was its own very special hell. 

Looking around, she finally knew. The Brit Witch Bitch Society was the source of Zoe’s being off. Madison sneered. Zoe was a sweet woman. They fucked with her and got away with it because she was what she was. Now they had a whole different kind of guest. She tossed the bloody nightgown and walked the perimeter of the room again, this time with an eye toward MacGyvering her way out of the room and failing that, killing the shit out of the first Brit Witch Bitch who dared to poke her head in.


	9. Chapter 9

A messenger arrived the next morning as most of the Salem coven joined Lena and Bridie at breakfast. The elegant older witch plucked the envelope off the tray and frowned at the hand that addressed it. The British Royal cut open the envelope and scanned the letter within before reading it again and slowly with horror rising in her eyes. She signaled the butler. “A laptop,” she ordered tersely and looked along the length of the table. “It’s begun.” she announced, a touch of rage apparent in her voice as the letter was tossed to the table beside her still full plate.

When the laptop arrived, she opened it and set it for a French news site before turning it so that the whole table could bear witness to the events ..  being covered. There was a terrible image of a fire, a single shot of a woman combusting, trying to escape, and a flag with a black column surrounded by flame and finally a poster with a woodcut of a burning witch. The commentator spoke in hushed tones as people gathered the morning after at the burned out remains of a shop. The crowd bore the look of people gathered at a funeral rather than lookie loos and arson fans.

Bridie looked down the table at Cordelia , whose brow knit as she translated in low tones for her coven members . . The English witch looked at her with blame and announced “Les Hommes de Remy was a harmless cult of idiot witch hunter wannabes. They have found their balls and attacked a witch shop of all things. They burned a class of people seeking to learn of natural witchcraft. Vivienne, the Royal from France writes the only witch in the room was the woman teaching. She taught the classes to watch for the women of true potential that occasionally sought answers in such places.” In an uncharacteristic display, Bridie’s hand came down hard on the letter.

Nearby,  Lena snarled. “The police?” It was obvious she had little regard for official inquiries. Her fingers tightened on the knife beside her plate as if readying to stab the hunters herself. She survived witch hunters and communists and her rage was kindled again. Cane or no, she would see these hunters pay, if she had anything to say on the subject.

Bridie looked to the older woman beside her. “They are investigating. Vivienne has her girls investigating as well. It will be a race. Will the benighted hunters find themselves in cells or in hell first?” B i ridie was far too well bred to verbally cast her vote.

Delia put her napkin on the table. “My coven offers their assistance.” she said without hesitation.

“Suka! This is because of your coven in the first place,” Lena ground out as she pushed herself to standing. “Those animals believe they may again bring the burning times because of you.”

Queenie stood. This rabid pit bull bitch was on her last damned nerve. She slammed a knife into her hand and watched as Lena screamed. “You listen here, you beef jerky fucking bitch. We are witches. You are witches. We have been surviving the best we can , the best ways we know how. This is what is in front of you , and this is the help you get. Fucking get with the fucking program.”

The elder witch looked into Queenie’s eyes before barking a laugh. “You remind me of myself.” She looked down the table at Delia. “These barbarian’s found their balls and proceeded to declare war on us. You and your Wild West bunch cut off their balls and I will stand with you at the Circle. Or don’t. I am not averse to punishing you for starting.” She gave an expressive shrug.

Zoe nodded. “I’ll find Madison.” She stood. If they were going to war, it would pay to bring the queen of fire along. Zoe hated burning people but she was not feeling particularly merciful to the perpetrators of this massacre.

Lena waved a hand. “She is locked in a room. I found her annoying and far too nosy for her own good.” she ground out.

A laugh erupted from Queenie. “Damn girl. Beef jerky witch bitch or not...I could get to like you.”

Bridie sighed. “I imagine the reason my home is not burnt down is that the room is in the teaching chambers. I will retrieve your sister witch.” She pushed up from the table. “We can discuss plans when we are all able to speak up.”

Delia stood as well. “I understand your desire to not be seen for what you are. Is there a safe neutral location for a press conference?”

Bridie blanched and Lena cackled. “We invited it into our world,” the Polish witch pronounced and thumped away. She was not happy at the turn of the events but the Salem witches would make Les Hommes pay or Les Hommes would end the Salem coven’s threat. Either way, less headache.

Cordelia looked at Zoe. “The stone circle. We can say we were doing a tour of them when we got the news.” She looked at Bridie. “We won’t reference any of the European witches except to comment on the Paris attack.. After that, is there any place for my coven to stay where we can be nice plump targets?”

Bridie nodded. “The coven has a bed and breakfast nearby.”

“Insured?” Delia responded.

“For everything up to and including acts of God.” Bridie signaled a footman. “Tell Walter to get a van to transport our friends here.”

Misty chuckled. “Ain’t God we gotta worry about. It’s the nutters with Molotovs.” She looked at Delia who was already looking miles away. “I got the bags. You get your speed dialer burnin’” She wrapped a hand around Zoe’s arm. “Help me with the stuffin’ Zo.”

Queenie looked at Bridie and Delia. “ “I think I might just go with you to release Madison. Be a shame if she blew your head off, just when I was getting to like my English sister witches.”


End file.
